Guns, Roses, and Butterflies
by moonlit.nocturne
Summary: A one-shot of Tyki and Lulu's past from Diamonds in Wine. Drama, love, betrayal--the norm. Anything you'd expect from a coldhearted love story. R&R please!


**Guns, Roses, and Butterflies**

Fanfiction Based off of: D. Gray-Man

Original Story: Katsura Hoshino

_A one-shot by reliving Tyki and Lulu's past in __Diamonds in Wine_

A click of the gun.

The scent of cigars, pot, and every other sort of foul substance drenched the air. It was dark and the air was stale in the room; anyone could probably just sit in it for a few minutes and get high simply by breathing.

Tyki Mikk was in there, alone, a cigarette in his mouth as he fixed the barrel of his gun. His golden eyes gleamed in the darkness as he worked; any lights in the room were doused, for Tyki had long learned how to see in the dark. Just like a cat.

He was seventeen years old and already played a prominent role in the Spanish Mafia. He was part of the Portugal branch, situated right in the outskirts of Lisbon. The Boss, a mysterious man who was simply known as the Earl, had taken a great liking to Tyki and favored him considerably, even over the seniors. Not that he didn't have a reason to be favored; Tyki did his work, and he did it well.

He was excellent at any role he held: sniper, imposter, intruder…anything that involved shooting or deceiving. Even seducing…though Tyki never played around before he killed his targets. It seemed to detract from his job…and he felt like it would leave a bad taste in his mouth if he was so ungentlemanly to a woman right before her death. Besides, being killed by a beautiful male like him would be enough of a pleasurable realization for his target in her last few minutes of life.

Tyki clicked the barrel in place and spun it, making sure that it moved fluidly. He shot a few rounds into the air, watching the movements of the steel gun with his golden eyes, savoring the feeling of being so in control of a weapon of destruction.

There was a sound at the door; he reacted immediately, pointing the gun in its direction.

"Show yourself," he said coldly, cocking the gun.

"Ah, put the gun down," said a female's voice. She spoke in soft, lilted Portuguese. "You wouldn't want to kill me—that'd get you kicked out of here as fast as you came in. Which would be a shame, really, since you only just arrived in Lisbon, and I'm sure that we could find some excellent work for you."

"Show yourself," he repeated, not dropping the gun.

He could make out the profile of a tall, voluptuous figure in the dark, as well as golden eyes gleaming on her face. Just like his.

"Where are the lights?" the voice said musingly. He could see her head move around, as if she were looking. "Ah, I found them."

The lights crackled and finally flickered on, the exhausted sound of the lights droning in the air as they struggled to stay alive.

Even in the dusky, smoke-filled aura of the room, the intruder was especially attractive. Tall and willowy except for her rather prominent chest, she had a narrow face and sharp eyes that seemed to mesmerize everyone who saw her. She was dressed in somewhat boyish clothing, a tight oxford with long dress pants and suspenders; she even had a long black tie woven around her collar.A smirk played at her lips as she surveyed Tyki, and he her.

It took a few minutes, especially with her strange clothing, but he recognized her.

"Aren't you…the princess of Portugal?" he said, stunned.

"Ah, I'm honored that you recognize me," she said with a throaty laugh. "Yes, you're correct. Lulubell Kamelot, at your service."

"What the hell are you doing here?" demanded Tyki, his gun still aimed at her pretty face.

"You really should stop pointing that gun at me, you know," said Lulu, fearlessly stepping forward. "I'm one of your employers—it won't bode well if you try to kill me."

"Prove it," said Tyki. "How are you my employer?"

"Jeez, everyone minus the general public knows of the royalty's affiliations with the Mafia," she sighed. "But if you insist…I know all your information. Tyki Mikk, age seventeen, sixty-five kilograms, one hundred eighty-one centimeters, blood type O. Unknown date of birth, as that was not entered into our registry, but you have a nine year old sister by the name of Road. Your last mission involved the assassination of Carlos Montoba, a club owner who had nasty dealings with the Mafia and failed to pay up despite three warnings—the Earl gave it to you on—"

"All right, all right, I get it," said Tyki dryly, dropping his arm. "So what does the little princess need here, eh? This definitely isn't the kind of place that royalty should be seen at."

"You've got that right," she said, sniffing affectively as she sat down on the edge of Tyki's threadbare sofa. "What is that awful smell?"

"Pot," said Tyki nonchalantly. "If I start not making any sense, don't mind me—I'm just high."

Lulu pursed her lips as she stared at him, scrutinizing his face.

"So what exactly do you need, little missy?" he said, leaning his head on his shoulder.

"Don't 'little missy' me," she said, amused. "I'm older than you by two years, thank you. I came here to…look at you."

"To look at me," repeated Tyki disbelievingly. "You're insane."

"Well, you're worth looking at," she smiled, leaning back on the sofa. "You're very beautiful, Tyki."

Something about the way she said his name made his numbed mind perk up for a moment. What an…alluring voice she had.

"I think we could get along very well," she continued, still smiling that strange smile of hers. "We look somewhat alike, don't we? Perhaps it's just our eyes…but at least we're both beautiful."

"What an arrogant statement," said Tyki.

"You're not refuting it," she sniffed. "And you're just as arrogant, for I can tell you think you're absolutely gorgeous as well."

"Lady—"

"Lulu," she corrected. "Lulu is fine."

"Right, well, Lulu, if you don't mind…if you're just here to 'look' at me, I suggest you leave—"

"How bold," she said mockingly. "Asking your own employer to leave? That's very rude of you."

Tyki remained silent. He didn't want to look at her eyes anymore—they reminded him too much of himself, shrewd, cold, and calculating—so he looked at the next best thing: her chest.

"So what do you do with your sister?" said Lulu.

"She's at some random private school," he answered, letting out a puff of smoke. "This job at least pays well enough for me to take care of her education."

"That's a bit sad," said Lulu. "Wouldn't it be nice if she had some people to play with? I know my brother would love to take care of her—he has a soft spot for children—so if you didn't mind, maybe she could come to the mansion and play sometime? He could even just hire a tutor for her, instead of having her go to a school…"

"Look, not meaning to sound rude or anything," said Tyki, his voice lined with considerable rudeness, "but you're royalty, and I'm just the guy who likes to kill people. Why the hell are you so interesteds?"

"Why do you think you got relocated to Lisbon?" said Lulu, smirking cryptically. "It's because _I_ recommended you to the Earl…and I want to keep you close. I'm…really interested in you…a beautiful boy, alone in the world save for his delicate young sister, joining the Mafia at age fifteen to take care of her…isn't that quaint?"

For once, Tyki used his uneducated mind and decided that saying she was a creeper was probably not a good idea. He remained silent, his eyes still focused on her chest. What a nice figure…

Lulu laughed softly, and her laughter was like the sound of flitting wings…she stood up and walked over to him, bending down so that her face was in front of his.

"You've been staring at my breasts for quite a while now," she said silkily. "Do you like what you see?"

"I _really_ like what I see," he admitted, staring down her shirt.

"I suppose I can't blame a seventeen year old adolescent from having…hormonal thoughts," she laughed, straightening up. "I really just came to look at you, Tyki. Do you mind if I come again?"

"I'd rather you not."

"How rude…" said Lulu, turning to leave. "But no matter—I'll come again, whether you like it or not."

"Lady—"

"It's Lulu," she said, turning around and flashing a smile. "Lulu, please. I'll see you later."

She strode confidently out the door, pausing just for a brief moment before she got to the exit.

"You know," she said without facing him, "it would do you some good to stop smoking so much. And cut down on the pot, would you? Think of your sister—what would happen to her if you suddenly keeled over and died?"

"There's the chance that I'll get killed everyday during my missions," he replied coldly. "I might as well live my life with some fun. And kill the lights when you leave, would you?"

He heard Lulu give a soft scoff, and then the lights flicked off. He couldn't even hear her catlike footsteps fade away.

Lulubell Kamelot. Hopefully she wouldn't come again.

* * *

Oh, but she came. Constantly. First it started off, every afternoon, usually right when Tyki dropped Road off at school. She come, and sit around, alone with him, and they'd talk.

Usually they'd talk about nothing important. Lulu would mull over the boring duties of being a princess, perhaps complain a bit about the paparazzi—which always made Tyki upset because he didn't want any reporters thinking that he was her pimp or something—but all in all, Lulu was quite a sensible, mature woman.

Tyki often found that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get his work done with her around. There was her aesthetic appeal, for one…she was gorgeous, but almost naturally so. Up close, he saw that she wore the barest bits of makeup—some eyeliner, some mascara, and on a grand occasion, a smidgen of lipstick—but her skin was flawless according to Nature's dictation, her teeth were straight and pearly white, and her hair was…her hair was amazing. Long, silky, tangle-free. Beautiful.

But she always emitted some sort of…charismatic aura.

Occasionally, when the two of them lapsed into silence, he find himself just staring in her direction. Not just because of her pulchritude—but that certainly was a hefty factor—but just because…her persona simply dictated for eyes to naturally follow her figure. For everyone to stare at her, to admire her. And he was subject to her charm as well. He found her enticing…and no matter how much she annoyed him, he could not bring himself to throw her out of the apartment. His excuse was that she was his employer, to some extent. And yet he actually enjoyed her company…her breathy voice, her fresh scents that alleviated the stagnant air of his room…she was irresistible.

He found out later that she was a model. It had been…about two months since they'd first met.

"It's fun," she said, lying on his dirty couch as she looked up at the ceiling.

She was dressed in a more feminine outfit that day—tight jeans, heels, and a low-cut long-sleeve that allowed Tyki to have a nice sight of her cleavage whenever she leaned over. Her hair was tied in a loose ponytail, draped naturally over her shoulder.

"Modeling?" he said, lighting a cigarette.

"Yeah," she said, nodding slightly. "To have all those eyes and cameras on you…and you're wearing lovely clothes as well…it's easy, just channeling out energy and charisma in that setting. Especially if you're already beautiful, and you know it." She turned her head so that she was looking at him. "You'd be a wonderful model, Tyki."

"…I'm touched," he smirked.

"I wouldn't like that though," she sighed, flipping over so that she could see him better. "I'd rather keep you to myself…away from the public eyes, where fangirls could feast their eyes on your beauty…"

"You seem to like emphasizing that I'm…attractive. Why?" he inquired.

"Because you are, of course," she laughed. She rolled off her sofa and walked over to his, sitting down beside him once she was close. "So Tyki…do you think I'm beautiful?"

"Very," he said, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath in of his cigarette.

"Dear…could you light me one as well?" she said, leaning her head on his shoulder.

"They're not good for you."

"I know that, meu amor."

"I'm…why would you call me that?" he said, slightly taken back.

She smirked up at him, her gold eyes flickering in a seductive manner.

"What?" she said, trailing her finger along his cheekbone. "Don't believe in love at first sight? Ever since the Earl gave me your photo…I've been…so attracted to you, Tyki."

She abruptly leaned heavily on him, causing him to turn to her. Her slender fingers plucked the cigarette right out of his mouth, and before Tyki had a moment to speak, she kissed him chastely on his lips.

It felt…incredible.

Like an instantaneous change of emotions, an exchange of raw lust and desire. Tyki had kissed plenty of women before, but this was different…Lulu was different.

She herself did not seem fazed by the kiss. She broke it off on her own, smiling as she registered Tyki's startled expression.

"I'll be taking your cig," she said, sitting back down and placing the cigarette to her lips. "What?" she said, raising an eyebrow as he simply stared at her. "Never been kissed before, Tyki?"

"Of course I have," he said, bringing his hand forward to claim his cigarette. "I was just…surprised."

"Have you slept with anyone?" she questioned, knocking his hand away.

He remained silent, unsure of how to answer the inquiry. Sure, he'd kissed, made out, gone a bit farther than decency recommended with a few women…but he'd never really gotten around to actually sleeping with them. A bit embarrassing, now that he thought about it.

"No?" she guessed. "Why, I'm glad."

"Why?" he said shortly.

"Because…I like you," she said, dousing the cigarette on the sofa.

Before he had a chance to protest her ruining his already dilapidated couch, Lulu stood up and checked her watch.

"Oh dear," she said. "I must run—Cyril's expecting me."

She bent down and kissed Tyki swiftly again, this one lingering a bit longer than before. Again, that chemistry. And again, that exchange.

"I've got to go," she whispered. "I'll see you—"

Tyki grabbed her by the shoulders and whipped her onto the sofa, crashing his lips onto hers. Lulu didn't even bother verbally protesting; Tyki felt her grab a fistful of his hair and yank his head back, exposing his neck to her so that she could trail a line of searing kisses down his throat. What a…dominating woman.

Well, after that experience, Tyki couldn't say that he hadn't slept with anyone.

* * *

He couldn't really define their relationship. They hugged, they kissed, they slept together more than a few times, but it was when they talked that Tyki was most confused about their relationship.

Lulu was so…reserved. So enigmatic. So far away.

Tyki could never tell what she was thinking.

But more than once did she assure him that she loved him, and before he could find a way to respond verbally, they ended up going for another round of intense kissing. He could do nothing but succumb to his desires when he was around her, and yet he couldn't believe that they were _just _desires. After all, whenever he saw another woman, no matter how attractive, he wouldn't even _think_ of doing the same things with her as he did with Lulu.

Lulu always came over to his place—he never went to hers. This realization was not much of a realization—it was a bit of an obvious fact. A happening that just had to be. Really, what would it look like if he—a vagabond, a simple assassin picked off the streets—came to the royal mansion? He could only shudder when he imagined what would happen if Lulu was caught making her way to his house.

Lulu was a princess. And Tyki could not help but feel that he was defiling some royal treasure when he slept with her.

He voiced aloud his thoughts one day, after they'd had sex and when he was in one of his moodier moments; they were lying against the headboard of his bed, simply staying there under the covers. Tyki had one arm draped around her shoulders; his other hand lit the cigarette balanced in his teeth.

"A royal treasure?" Lulu laughed, kissing his neck. "You're insane. You're thinking of me as some…saint, meu amor. I'm _nowhere_ near a saint, darling. Besides, I don't even have a title."

"_Princess_ isn't a title?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh no," she said, waving her hand. "No one calls me that anyway. _You_ have a better title than I do."

"I have a title?" he said, surprised.

"Don't they know what they call you?" she said, rolling over so that she was lying on his chest. "_Borboleta preta_. Black Butterfly."

"A _butterfly_?" he said, revolted. "What kind of feministic title is—"

"I like butterflies," interrupted Lulu. "They're nice…gentle…fragile…"

"All of which do not describe me," he said acidly. "Whoever the hell decided that they could christen me a bloody butterfly better—"

"Shush, Tyki," said Lulu, kissing his lips. "It's a lovely title."

She leaned back on his chest, tracing patterns over his abs.

"Say, Tyki…do you want to…come and meet my family sometime?"

Tyki choked as he inhaled, leading to a coughing fit.

"Meet…" he said, coughing as Lulu patted him sympathetically on the back. "Meet your family?! Are you crazy? From the sounds of it, your brother would _murder_ me if I told him…that we were…"

"Dating?" she offered.

He was glad that she had not said anything along the lines of "screwing each other." Tyki had never been quite sure of what Lulu made of their relationship.

"Actually," Lulu said a bit guiltily, "my brother wouldn't mind at all…"

"…Is there something you're not telling me?" said Tyki suspiciously.

"…My brother would like to adopt Road," she said with a culpable smile.

There was a silence.

"_What_?!"

"Calm down, meu amor," she sighed, her hands roaming his body. "Ever since you joined the branch here, Cyril—a natural philanthropist, of course—was rather worried for your sister, so he took a substitute teaching position at her school. He found her to be very sweet and charming and has fallen completely in parental love for her, and he wants to adopt her. Would you mind?"

"That's way too sudden for me," he said. "I need some time to think about it."

"How about you come and meet my family so you can talk to Cyril about it?" she suggested.

"I still need to think about it, Lulu."

She let out a breath, then looked suddenly up at him, a smirk crawling onto her luscious lips.

"Do you," she breathed by his ear, her hand roaming lower, "perhaps need some convincing, meu amor?"

He groaned as she kissed his neck and as her hands continued inching lower on his body.

"…Perhaps," he said, kissing her fully on the lips.

"Then how about…next Tuesday?" she said softly.

"Mm…" He breathed in her scents deeply as he threw his cigarette in the ashtray and took her into both of his hands. "That sounds fine."

* * *

The next Tuesday came quickly, and Tyki could not help but be nervous about meeting Lulu's relatives. She had said that there were no parental figures—Cyril took that role—and only two other non-related siblings: Debitto and Jasdevi, whom she had quite offhandedly said to be "very strange" and "wouldn't give a damn about whom she was dating."

He could probably do something about his appearance…Tyki glanced at his reflection in the mirror—unshaven, unwashed, ragged clothes. That needed some working on.

Lulu said to meet her at the back of his apartment complex around six…Cyril would take Road directly from school to their mansion. It was a bit sad that _she_ was the one picking him up, but it wasn't like Tyki could pick her up and go to her house. That made no sense whatsoever.

He decided to make a trip to the barber to get cleaned up, and then to some local stores for a suit of some sort. A few hours later, he was impeccably groomed. Even he had to admit—he looked _good_.

"Very good, sir," said the female clothing assistant, swooning over him. "You look fabulous."

Tyki sent a seductive smile her way, amused when he noticed that she was leaning considerably on her desk to prevent herself from falling—literally—to his charm.

"Thank you. Now, could you perhaps tell me where a local boutique is?"

Ah, the woes of a love-stricken man. Tyki's entire head was consumed with the idea of meeting Cyril _perfectly_ in order to make a good impression. Wouldn't flowers be a nice idea? Lulu seemed like the type to appreciate sentimental albeit cliché gifts.

Tyki walked over to a boutique, selecting a bouquet of twenty-four splendidly white and gorgeous roses. While red was a color that Lulu looked stunning in—he remembered the time she had spontaneously come over in a red cocktail dress…he smirked at the thought of what happened afterward…and _that_ involved no cocktail dress at all…but white was a much prettier and sentimental color, a shade that he didn't associate with himself but more so with women.

So absorbed was he in his thoughts that he did not notice anything peculiar around him as he walked home. The strange stares that lingered longer than necessary…from the women, it was no surprise, but had he been in his sanest state, he would've deemed that so many men staring at him was quite scary…

Unwisely, Tyki chose the shortest route home, which included cutting into many deserted alleyways. But love—or at least, infatuation—gave a man a false sense of security, and safety was the last thing on Tyki's mind right now…he was thinking more intently about what Lulu would say to him if Cyril accepted their relationship…

He was about a block away from his flat when there was a clicking sound behind him. Tyki whirled around instinctively—he knew it was the sound of a gun cocking—and withdrew his pistol from underneath his jacket, readying himself.

Two guns.

Two assailants.

One behind the trashcan, the other…hiding in the back porch of a building. Tyki aimed for the one behind him first, the one behind the trashcan, and pulled the trigger easily. The bullets rebounded off the attacker's shield, but Tyki was now thinking clearly—he waited until the attacker resurfaced before shooting again, catching him in the forehead. Without even waiting for another second, he spun around for the second onslaught.

Too slow.

One caught him in the left shoulder. He let out a low curse, struggling to keep his eyes open, overcoming the pain, and he brought his pistol up and shot blindly in his assailant's general direction. A few thuds and finally the thump of a falling body confirmed that he had won—Tyki didn't waste any time staying there.

He whipped out his phone and dialed the local branch's head, telling him to clean up the mess. When Tyki passed the dead man by the trashcan, he recognized him. One of the older Mafia members back in Madrid. He uttered a low scoff of disgust. What a cutthroat world.

* * *

"What happened to you?" said Lulu, shocked as she arrived in his apartment.

Tyki was sitting on the edge of his couch, a bottle of peroxide and roll of bandages in front of him. His long bangs were plastered around his eyes, drenched in perspiration, as he held one edge of the bandages in his teeth and the other in his hand, trying to wrap it around his left shoulder.

He did not answer Lulu's question—he was too angry with himself and with his attackers to trust himself not to lash out at her as well.

"Go away," he said after a few seconds, letting the bandage drop out of his mouth as he wound it inexpertly in a bow. "Tell your brother to keep Road for a while…and I can't come today."

"Well that's obvious," she said, walking over to him and helping him bandage his shoulder. "Did you get the bullet out already?"

He nodded curtly, leaning his head on her shoulder.

"I'll tell Cyril what happened," she said, unwinding and rewinding the bandage neatly. "He'll understand…Tyki, I don't know if I feel comfortable with you still working in the Mafia—it's too dangerous."

"What else is there for me to do, Lulu?" he said, gritting his teeth as she prodded his shoulder slightly. "I'm not going to rely on your money."

"You could get an honest job," she replied. "I can make a few calls, here and there, and I'm sure you can do something worth your time and—"

"Lulu, I don't have an education. I dropped out of high school to take care of Road. It's pretty obvious I can't do an 'honest' job that I'm good at—at least I'm good at shooting people."

"We can work something out," she said primly. "I'm more worried about your safety."

"You don't understand," he said almost angrily. "I've killed men, many men, and how do you think I feel about that? Shooting them, dead, right then, right there—do you think I could just _stop_? Forget it all? Go on to a different job? No, Lulu, it's because I started this job that I have to stay in it—I can't just forget the many times I've pulled the trigger because all those times, it could've been me lying dead in a ditch."

"…The fact that you've killed so many people seems to have made you lose your self-worth, Tyki. You almost…loath yourself."

"I don't," he said shortly. "I just appreciate…no, I respect what I do…and who I've killed."

Lulu brushed aside his bangs, kissing his forehead.

"You're condemning yourself to this life just because you've survived in it? That's unnecessary. I can get you out of it, Tyki."

"I don't want to rely on your connections, Lulu."

"That doesn't matter," she said, waving a hand. "Besides, what's more important, your life or your pride?"

"For a man, pride."

"Obnoxious idiot," muttered Lulu under her breath.

The insult made his heart lighten up, strangely enough. He gave a fleeting smirk.

"Don't say that. I got all dressed up for you today too."

"Too bad I couldn't see it," she said, smiling as she pressed her lips swiftly to his. "Next time, then."

"I managed to keep your roses in tact," he said, nodding over at the bouquet lying on the table.

"Are those for me?" she said fondly. "I wanted to ask, but thought it would be too pretentious of me."

"It's not like I could've gotten them for anyone else," he said, now in a much better mood as he kissed her cheek.

"Road?" she suggested halfheartedly.

"You're joking," he said, now fully nuzzling her neck.

"Meu amor," she said breathily, "now might not be a time for us to have…some 'together' time…I might…exhaust your weary body."

"Exhaust me?" he said, chuckling slightly and pushing her down on the couch. "You're in such a sarcastic mood today, Lulu…"

She breathed in raggedly as his hands began to quickly unfasten the buttons of her blouse. Tyki was too absorbed in what he was doing to notice that she, for once, was not struggling to be on top. Only after a few minutes did he realize, and he asked her about it.

"I just thought I should be kind and let you…well, exert your dominating male role today," shrugged Lulu. "In return for the lovely flowers."

A smirk flitted at Tyki's lips.

"Do you like them?" he breathed at her ear. "If you're going to let me have so much fun every time I bring you flowers, I'll give them to you everyday."

"Only the first time is important, dear," she answered, wrapping her arms around his neck. "This _is_ your first time giving a woman flowers, isn't it?"

"Yeah," he responded, biting down on her neck gently. "Are you happy?"

"Yes," said Lulu, stroking his hair. "I like being your first of everything, Tyki."

Before he had a chance to ask about her cryptic statement, she kissed him fully on the lips and began to undress him. It wasn't like he could think about anything else after that.

* * *

"So this is the fine young man!" said Cyril in greeting one summer evening, when Tyki showed up at the front step of the Kamelot mansion. "Oh ho, Lulu, quite the handsome one, isn't he?"

"Of course, Cyril," she said dryly, looking half-amused, half-exasperated. "Come in, Tyki."

"Tyki!" said Road happily, jumping into his arms. "Hi! How was your day!"

"It was fine," he said with a smile, picking her up. "Yours?"

"Amazing," she beamed. "Cyril has so many dresses for me, and the maids love to play with me and I—"

"Cyril?" said Tyki questioningly. "Road, that's really rude—shouldn't you call him Mr. Kamelot?"

"I will hear _nothing_ about calling me Mr. Kamelot!" said Cyril, looking scandalized. "No, we're all family here! It's just Cyril! Or 'father,'" he added, looking at Road affectionately.

Road smiled at Cyril sweetly.

"Can I have some more candy, _Father_?" she said with dripping innocence.

"Road, we're about to eat," said Tyki hesitantly, but Cyril simply pushed him out of the way and took Road into his arms, whisking her off to the kitchens.

"Candy, dearest Road? Of course! What shall you have? We have chocolate and bonbons and…ooh! We have the latest edition of chocolate from Switzerland! And England, mind you, would you fancy some Cadbury?"

Cyril's voice trailed off as they grew farther and farther away.

"…Lulu, I'm having second thoughts about this," said Tyki slowly.

"Nonsense," she said, taking his jacket and giving it to the maid. "Cyril loves you."

"No, he's going to spoil Road rotten," said Tyki. "You don't know that girl—she can be a very cunning child and—"

"She's lovely," Lulu interrupted, kissing him quickly on the cheek. "As are you, darling. You look so dashing when you're dressed up."

"What about when I'm not dressed up?" he said seductively, bending down so his lips caressed her ear. "When I'm not wearing anything at all?"

Lulu laughed and hit him gently on the shoulder, her eyes landing on the large bouquet of white roses in his hand.

"You are such a dear," she said, taking the flowers. "How splendid…"

"Who said they were yours?" he said teasingly, taking them away. "I bought them for your brother."

"A pathetic suck-up device," she said sardonically. "Cyril _abhors_ white roses."

"Does he really?" said Tyki almost worriedly, straightening up. "Maybe I should go change them…"

"You didn't _really_ buy them for him, did you?"

"No, but I don't want you to put them in a vase in his house when he hates them—"

"I was joking," she laughed, taking the bouquet again and kissing him endearingly. "Dinner, shall we?"

"How long until dinner?" he questioned. "I'd hate to sit there and do nothing."

"Hm…I don't know, perhaps half an hour. I heard Cyril telling the cooks to make a magnificent dinner." Lulu arched an eyebrow at him. "Why?"

Tyki answered with a suggestive smile.

"I know what we could do _very _well for half an hour."

Lulu pursed her lips, as if contemplating his idea, before handing her flowers to a maid and dragging Tyki to a nearby room. Thirty minutes was more than enough for a good time.

* * *

"So, Tyki," Cyril said after dinner was cleared and dessert was brought, "I've been thinking that it's about time I got such a nice and youthful seventeen—oh wait, are you eighteen now? Oh, yes, that's right, Lulu tells me she's been seeing you for half a year now—well, the Mafia is no place for you to be wasting your life away in, especially when you're so handsome. How about being adopted into the family?"

"That…" said Tyki uncertainly.

"Of course, Road will be adopted into the family to be my daughter…well, you're a bit old to be my _son_. How about you be adopted as my brother? That would be splendid. The public would never know, of course—I could introduce you as my long-lost brother who has been studying in Spain for…your entire life…"

"That's a bit…gracious," said Tyki. "And…" He shot a glance at Lulu.

"You're right," said Cyril, hitting his head dramatically. "You're dating Lulu! How could I have forgotten! I'm so insensitive…hm. Well, we can work around that, can't we? I keep forgetting…but we would like you to be adopted in the family, Tyki."

"Aren't I already part of your family?" said Road innocently.

"Of course, dearest Road!" said Cyril, kissing her on the forehead. "You're my daughter!" He then turned back to Tyki. "Perhaps we could say you're adopted then? Would that matter?"

"Cyril, this is too serious of a topic to discuss over dessert," said Lulu mildly. "And Tyki must find this to be really awkward, so…"

"Ach, my insensitivity again," said Cyril. "Very well, let's just talk instead about…Road! What dress did you like today?"

* * *

"Are you sure that letting us stay over is okay?" said Tyki as they were ushered up the stairs of the manse.

"Don't complain, Tyki!" said Road, holding a doll that Cyril had given to her closely. "Thank you for letting us stay, _Father_!"

Which elicited another round of affectionate kisses from Cyril.

"It's a pleasure to have you," he said somewhat pompously after he straightened up. "But I'm afraid you can't stay in the same room as Lulu though, Tyki. That would be too indecorous."

"Why would letting them stay in the same room be…indecorous?" questioned Road.

"Oh! Here's your room!" said Cyril, deliberately ignoring Road's inquiry and showing Tyki into his room. "Just tell the maids if you need something! Goodnight!"

He shut the door behind Tyki, leaving the eighteen year old alone in his room. Well, at least he and Lulu had gotten some "alone" time in that evening parlor, and that had been very nice…

Tyki sighed and reached into his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and lighting one. He took a look at himself in the mirror.

Damn. He really was hot.

He grinned a bit as he puffed on his cigarette, thinking. It was a nice feeling, being with a family. And Road looked like she really liked it here…but that was probably because Cyril liked to spoil her considerably.

Tyki liked it here too. Cyril was a bit strange, true, but Tyki enjoyed that he could have Lulu close by most of the time. Just thinking about her made him feel…calm. Even more calm than when he was getting high…now that he thought about it, ever since they'd first met, he'd definitely been smoking pot less. Which was good, he supposed. He didn't need to be killing the little brain cells he had left.

Lulu's scent always rubbed off of him after they'd had their alone time. The smell of fresh soap and…faint roses, really. He liked that scent.

Lulu was still a mystery to him.

Was it because he wasn't…worthy?

Wouldn't joining the royal family make him more worthy of Lulu? And if he actually did get a real job…perhaps make himself a presentable figure to the public…wouldn't he be qualified to stay by her, especially to the public eye?

Well, he'd just have to fix that. Tyki kept looking at his reflection, surveying his figure. Maybe he could be a model. He was confident that he could do well; he was at least sure that his looks could sell well in the real world.

But Lulu had told him before that she didn't want to share him…he could understand that. So maybe model was out of the question.

He'd have to think about it. Maybe some wine would help him out a bit.

Tyki exited his room, wandering around in the hallways, hoping to find a maid who could lead him back to the kitchens so he could select a nice bottle of wine. As he walked down the hallway, he heard a set of voices from an office room. Cyril and Lulu. And they weren't sounding terribly happy.

He stopped by the door, listening intently. It was hard to hear the entire conversation—he only managed to hear snippets of it.

"…Nearly slipped there, Cyril," hissed Lulu, her normally sugar-coated voice alive with annoyance. "Use that brain…"

"…Fine…" said Cyril's voice. "He didn't notice…don't know why you…agitated."

"Don't screw up my work…half an entire year…"

"It'll be fine…"

Tyki couldn't shake off the awful feeling that they were talking about him. What was Lulu talking about? Where had Cyril slipped up? He didn't know that her voice could sound so…angry. And what work was she talking about?

But Tyki could not listen any further; a maid approached him, asking him what he wanted, and he could not brush her off. He smiled cordially and asked for the direction to the kitchens, following her directions, but his golden eyes gleamed in the dim-lit hallway as he thought. There was nothing he could do about it. He trusted Lulu enough to not ask about it the next day.

* * *

It'd been seven months since Tyki first met Lulu. They were still dating clandestinely, as there were still long formal negotiations to go through in order for Road and Tyki to be accepted into the Portuguese royal family.

Tyki was walking on the streets of Lisbon, dressed rather casually but still expensively in a leather jacket and jeans. He was roaming the streets, thinking about what Cyril had told him in the morning. He had said accidentally more than once that Tyki was going to be a real "brother" in the royalty, but had corrected himself profusely when Tyki had arched an eyebrow in question.

A young woman approached him, blushing as she looked up at his face.

"Sir," she called, stopping him, "I'm an agent from the Ralph Lauren here in Lisbon, and I've been scouting for some male models. It's a really easy job, and…" Her cheeks grew redder. "And you definitely have the looks to qualify."

"Thank you," he said sincerely. "But I think my girlfriend would be upset if I were to share my looks with the world."

"Oh!" said the agent, flushing even deeper. "That's…that's actually really kind of you. In all honesty…" Her voice dropped a few pitches. "If you were my boyfriend, I probably wouldn't want to share you either."

Tyki let out a laugh. "Thank you."

"No, thank you! I…well, here's my card if you change your mind. I'd love to hear from you! Bye!"

She left, very flustered, melting away into the crowd. Tyki chuckled, looking down at the stiff business card in his hand. She hadn't been bad looking…

But Lulu trumped all in Tyki's mind, and he was more than content to have her. He strolled along the road, pausing to buy another bouquet of white roses—Lulu _really_ liked them—and made his way across a bridge.

A butterfly flew down, landing in the bouquet he had out in front of him. Tyki found himself staring at it, moving slowly so he wouldn't disturb it. It was a black butterfly…its wings tinted with aqua-blue hues. It was a gorgeous thing. Fragile. Delicate. Weak.

The butterfly abruptly fluttered away, into the crowd. Tyki's golden eyes followed it all the way to the distance, when the butterfly simply disappeared, for all he could see was the sight it unveiled.

It was Lulu.

And another man.

Was it Lulu?

No, it was definitely Lulu. He could recognize her profile from anywhere.

And an unknown man.

And they were kissing.

Tyki strode quickly forward, his heart pounding. This made no sense. Lulu was supposed to be out with Cyril at some press conference—why was she in the middle of the street, kissing another man the same way she kissed Tyki?

In rose Tyki a surge of jealousy and possession—Lulu was _his_. Maybe this was a mistake, an unwilling kiss on Lulu's part.

"Lulu!" he shouted into the crowd, walking towards them.

The couple didn't move.

"Lulu!" he said again, nearing them and grabbing her shoulder, half praying that it wasn't her.

But it was. Liquid gold eyes and all.

She looked startled with him, and the man she was with—around thirty years old, handsome enough, but nowhere along the lines of Tyki's appeal—simply stared at him.

"Tyki," she said, winded.

"What's going on?" Tyki demanded, eyes flickering over to the stranger. "Who…what are you doing?"

Lulu gave a sigh. It sounded irritated, almost.

"Wait just a moment, Adão," she said to her partner, taking Tyki's hand and stepping a few feet away.

"What's going on?" said Tyki. "Is he harassing you? Stalking you? I will—"

"Relax," she said almost coldly. "He's my boyfriend."

Tyki stared at her, stunned.

"What?"

"I'm guessing Cyril wasn't man enough to tell you," she sighed. "Stupid idiot. We're breaking up, Tyki."

"Wait. _What_?"

"The only reason we went out was so I could get you into our family," she said. "We needed you. Our family could use you, Tyki. You'd be so surprised what the aristocratic women want from a male—just beauty. And beautiful you are, Tyki. And now that you've signed all the documents that legally bind you to our family, there's no reason for us to continue going out."

"This has got to be a joke," he said faintly. "Then what did this last half year _mean_, Lulu, you couldn't have just been playing around—"

"My loyalty lies in no man," she said chillingly. "I hold my loyalty only to my family and to the Earl. I will do anything and everything to uphold them. Sleeping with you, Tyki, is not a problem. I've slept with many men before."

"This is ridiculous," he said. "You don't…God, you've got to be kidding."

"I'm _not_, Tyki," she said impatiently. "Now if you don't mind, I have to attend to Adão now."

"What is he?" said Tyki fiercely. "Someone to adopt into the family as well?"

"Oh heavens, no," she laughed. "Cyril needs his financial resources for this project he wants to sponsor—well, that's none of your business, right? Now that we're no longer…dating, darling. Ah, I should be calling you…_irmão_ now, mm? Brother?"

"That's _disgusting_," snapped Tyki. "And you don't think that I'm still going to consent to being part of the royalty—"

"You signed the documents, Tyki. There's no getting out of it, unless you want to be chased to the ends of the earth. And I don't think you want to leave your dear sister all alone, do you?" she said, smiling.

The smile was revolting; Tyki had never thought that he could see her as someone disgusting, vile, but she was—that simpering smile made him want to throw up from repulsion.

"We can talk later, Tyki," said Lulu softly. "After all, we have an infinite amount of time back in the mansion, hm? Now that we're…blood-related siblings?"

She gave a short laugh and walked back to Adão and hugging him tightly. Tyki was surprisingly level-headed; he turned around immediately, tossing the bouquet in his hand over the edge of the bridge as he strode back in the direction of the mansion. The blood was pounding in his ears—he was furious, more so than anything else, and he had the strong desire to hurt something. Or someone.

Cyril had known of the plan as well; with all the consistent hints that Tyki was going to be _blood-related_ to them, it was impossible that Cyril hadn't known. Tyki gritted his teeth.

He'd been used. He'd let down his guard for a woman—he'd been naïve, letting her in, letting her control him. She had known what to do, what to say…and she had learned of all his desires, his secrets, ever nook and cranny of his soul. Because he had fallen for her.

And so easily, she had left. She was so detached, so…easy.

And he was not.

If they thought he would just stay and go along with the game, they were wrong. He would leave. He would not stay there, not with Lulubell.

But what about Road?

So that was why Cyril had made Road his daughter beforehand.

Their original goal hadn't been Road; it'd been _him_.

And by keeping Road, they would ensure his stay, for Tyki was not so inhumane as to leave his last relative behind. Road was finally comfortable in the rich life—she had a family.

Tyki was trapped. What could he do? He could not abandon Road—who knew what that twisted family would do if he left—but he didn't want to stay either, listening to the whims of the royalty and playing around just as Lulu did, roping others into doing the royalty's will.

Tyki stopped in the middle of the road, hit with an inspiration.

Lulu did not want to share him. His beauty, that is.

For that was all his worth. His beauty. Not his soul.

Tyki's golden eyes looked down at the business card in his hand. If beauty was all his worth, then he'd use it. He'd exploit it.

And he'd conquer it.

Lulu hadn't wanted to share it?

Then let him give it to the world.

He walked over to a payphone and dialed the numbers from the card. His heart palpitated fiercely as he heard the rings. Lulu didn't want him? Plenty of others did—he'd make sure of that. And if they thought he'd just sit there in the family, going around to parties and seducing aristocrats, they were dead wrong.

He'd prove his worth.

"This is Ana Santagio," said the voice through the phone. "How may I help you?"

It was hard keeping his voice calm.

"This is Tyki Mikk," he said huskily. "I'm the man you just met in the street perhaps…fifteen minutes ago. I know I told you that I didn't want the model job—forget it, I do. Is the offer still on?"

He could hear her flustered voice agree, saying "Of course" over and over again. There was the sound of rustling pages of an agenda, and she was scheduling an appointment sometime, sometime soon, and some sort of audition. Tyki was not listening.

A butterfly flew into the phone booth, landing on the window. Tyki's golden eyes watched it intently.

"Senhor Mikk?" said Ana's voice. "Tuesday at noon?"

Tyki didn't answer for a moment; in him surged the desire to hurt something again, especially as the image of Lulu and the bastard Anão resurfaced in his mind.

His fist lashed out, smashing into the butterfly on the plastic window.

"Senhor Mikk?" said Ana's voice again.

He removed his hand, watching the stamped butterfly's still figure slide down the pane.

"Sorry about that," he said smoothly. The black butterfly fell to the floor. "Tuesday is fine."

_A despedida, borboleta preta_. Farewell, Black Butterfly.

**Guns, Roses, and Butterflies: END**

**

* * *

**

**Free Talk**:

Wow. My first one-shot, and my first fic without an OC. I was thinking of including a scene with Rei at the very end but decided against it.

Do tell me what you thought. This is my first time in two areas, so I'm not sure how well I did. I probably murdered Lulu's personality, but since she doesn't have a lot of screen time in the real manga, I can't have a full grasp on her disposition, so I made a lot of it up. At this point, I don't really care anymore, especially since I'm full of animosity towards her for manipulating my dear Tyki.

In case you're confused, this is the past that I designated for Lulu and Tyki in my AU/OC fic Diamonds in Wine. I think it was still somewhat understandable if you haven't read DIW, but it probably was more enjoyable if you had.

I must apologize for the amount of Portuguese in this--I don't really try to use foreign words in my fics, but I thought it added a little bit of charm to this one. Sorry if it seemed a bit overdone.

If you want more commentary, go to my livejournal. I did enjoy typing this, and I hope you enjoyed reading it as well.

Leave a review on your way out and tell me what you thought! I'd love to hear.

xoxo,

m.n

P.S. Remember that Lulu and Tyki aren't really related. I don't support incest. Sorry.  
P.P.S. Do read my livejournal entry. I think it'd be worth the time, and it might help you understand this one-shot more. :)


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